The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes eBook

“Her banker or her lawyer. There is that
double possibility. But I am inclined to think
neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they
like to do their own secreting. Why should she
hand it over to anyone else? She could trust
her own guardianship, but she could not tell what
indirect or political influence might be brought to
bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that
she had resolved to use it within a few days.
It must be where she can lay her hands upon it.
It must be in her own house.”

“But it has twice been burgled.”

“Pshaw! They did not know how to look.”

“But how will you look?”

“I will not look.”

“What then?”

“I will get her to show me.”

“But she will refuse.”

“She will not be able to. But I hear the
rumble of wheels. It is her carriage. Now
carry out my orders to the letter.”

As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage
came round the curve of the avenue. It was a
smart little landau which rattled up to the door of
Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing
men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in
the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away
by another loafer, who had rushed up with the same
intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which
was increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides
with one of the loungers, and by the scissors-grinder,
who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow
was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped
from her carriage, was the centre of a little knot
of flushed and struggling men, who struck savagely
at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes
dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but just
as he reached her he gave a cry and dropped to the
ground, with the blood running freely down his face.
At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one
direction and the loungers in the other, while a number
of better-dressed people, who had watched the scuffle
without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady
and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler,
as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps;
but she stood at the top with her superb figure outlined
against the lights of the hall, looking back into
the street.

“Is the poor gentleman much hurt?” she
asked.

“He is dead,” cried several voices.

“No, no, there’s life in him!” shouted
another. “But he’ll be gone before
you can get him to hospital.”

“He’s a brave fellow,” said a woman.
“They would have had the lady’s purse
and watch if it hadn’t been for him. They
were a gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he’s
breathing now.”

“He can’t lie in the street. May
we bring him in, marm?”

“Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room.
There is a comfortable sofa. This way, please!”